Feel my Pain 275th Hunger Games SYOT
by Featherbreeze
Summary: Exactly 200 years after the rebellion Katniss's started failed, the Gamemakers are planning a horrible double twist to remind the districts, once again, not to rebel. This year, tributes will be put into groups and will be able to feel their teammates' pain. Who will come out alive?
1. The beginning

I walked up the red velvet-covered stage, over to my father, also the President of Panem, and hand him the heavily decorated envelope with the number eleven printed on it, that conceals the twist for the 275th annual Hunger Games. Tonight, I was dressed in a fancy tuxedo and a tie to look good in front of everyone in Panem. Father explained that this year was a Quarter Quell, a Hunger Games with a twist, which occurs every twenty five years. Then, I retrieve to the side of the stage.

I watched him open the envelope with caution. This will be the second Quell he will organize. Just before the ceremony, I saw several Gamemakers talking about how exactly 200 years ago, a girl from District 12 tried to overthrow the Capitol. They said Father had personally given orders to make this year's games extra painful for the districts. I found this simply unbelievable. _A girl from twelve?_ I think. _Maybe that's why twelve receives the worst treatment. _

He clears his throat and reads out calmly. **"This year, to remind the rebels that everyone will suffer because a single rebel's actions, tributes shall be put in groups of four. A tribute can feel any of their teammates' pain. Killing their teammates will result in immediate death from the Gamemakers. However, tributes from the same group will all be allowed to win, if they are from the same group."** When he finishes this announcement, I see looks of shock on everyone's faces, including the Capitol citizens. At the back, I can see twelve separate screens, one for each district, displaying their reactions crystal clear. The Gamemakers' faces look dark, and I remember that 200 years ago, the head Gamemaker turned traitor against the Capitol.

The announcement is ended with the national anthem, and I head back to the Snow mansion with my father, riding in our comfy hovercrafts. I imagine this year's tributes, and how the majority of them will suffer painful deaths in the arena.

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I have chosen the female PoV characters and made the bloodbath tributes, but I need some tributes, such as the two male PoV characters. Here are the tributes I need.

D1G

D2B

D3G

D4G

D4B

D7B

D8B

D10B

D11G

D11B

D12B

The form is a free for all, but please be detailed. Also, let me know I have made any grammar mistakes since English is not my native language and currently I don't live in an English-speaking country.

-Feather


	2. District 2 Reaping: Aquilina

**Oh well, I didn't get many reviews or tribute forms. So, I decided to post the next chapter of the story and see what you guys think. The district one tribute girl spot has been filled, though.**

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**Aquilina D'Ambrosio's PoV**

Today is the day of the reaping. The event that will hopefully allow me to bring pride and honor to my family I've been waiting for since the age of eleven. That's right, I'm planning to volunteer this year, at the age of sixteen. Most volunteers in our district, District 2, are at least seventeen when they volunteer, but this year's a Quell, and I don't want to miss it.

So, I crawl out of my bed and walk over to my closet to put on the the long, white dress with a golden waistband which I've picked out as my reaping clothes about a week ago. Soon, after I brushed my teeth in the bathroom, I hed down the stairs to breakfast. I choose the seat farthest from my mental brother who was drinking his liquor. Just looking at his face makes me boil with resentment. He was the one who caused my parents so much suffering.

Mother has made bacon and eggs today; a rarity. Usually, she lets me prepare my own breakfast. I remember that four years ago, she could barely eat anything because of her depression. I try to enjoy my meal, because I know, that this could very well be the last meal she'll ever cook me. Maybe it's just me, but the food tastes better than I ever remembered it to be.

I spend my morning looking at a old photo album, one before the '"incident". The "incident" was what everyone in the household called it. They never said Achilles's death, which was what actually happened. Achilles had been my mother's favorite for as long as I could remember, and she was delighted when he volunteered for the 270th Hunger Games. He was by far the best in the Training Center and everyone in the district was sure he would win. But he didn't. Instead, he made it to the final two and was killed by a clever trap a District 4 tribute set up, one that involved hanging him from a tree by his neck. I make a mental note to myself to look out for smart tributes. I set my mind back to the pictures. I see ones of me and Achilles playing, Achilles and his twin, also my drunk brother Atticus sparring in our backyard, and finally, on the last page, one of my family, happily having a picnic outside. The photo was much smaller than the others. I slide it out of the album and tuck it into my pocket. I figure that I should bring this as my token.

At one o'clock sharp, I begin to walk to the District 2 square, which was covered in banners praising the capitol or showing its power. As quick as a blink of my eye, the ridiculous looking escort is reaching her hand into the glass bowl which contained the name for the female tribute. I don't see why they still pick out names of tributes; every year, someone volunteers anyways. I smooth my dress and get ready to volunteer.

**"Nadia Kentwell." **She reads out in her silly capitol accent.

No one bothers looking for Nadia, a twelve year old I've seen at school. Instead, their eyes are focused on me.

**"I volunteer!" **I shout. Then, I confidentally walk up to the stage.

In our district, there's a unspoken rule that whoever's best in training will volunteer. Not one single person has ever broken that rule. Most people know about how well I'm doing in training, even though it's probably not as well as Achilles did. I'm best with the rapiers, which I'll definitely show the Gamemakers during the private sessions.

**"And your name is?" **She says.

**"Aquilina D'Ambrosio."** I replied, loud enough for the entire district to hear. I'm well aware that my face is projected on to large screens surrounding the square. I wouldn't want to seem weak. Not now, not ever.

I don't notice the male tribute until he's already walking up the stage. Very much like other male tributes from District 2, this one is a brute. With his large, square face and beady brown eyes, he's the stereotypical image of a career. He doesn't look like he has an ounce of brains though. I don't know if I want him in my group during the games.

**"Sherman Jaile" **He announces, in the most arrogant way possible.

**"Now shake hands, you two." **Our escort says as her bright yellow hair bobbles on top of her head.

I reluctantly shake hands with him. His hands are abnormally large and muscular. From that, and his appearance, I can guess that he uses either a spear or sword or both.

We are then marched into the Justice building, by a team of peacekeepers. I recognize one of them, Thya, who was sort of my friend. If I never volunteered, I'd probably have become a peacekeeper like her.

**"Good luck."** She whispers.

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**So how was it? Also, should I write the events that happened at the same time to different tributes, or skip those parts and continue with the story? Some tributes are still available. Review please.**

**-Feather**


	3. District 7 Reaping: Sylvianna

**Sorry for not updating due to my finals. Thanks to those who followed or favorited the story. Remember, the male tribute PoVs are still open, as well as most listed on the first chapter. This will be the district 7 reaping. **

**-Feather**

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**Sylvianna Elwood's PoV**

I stumbled across the rocky trail which led to the cedar forest where my brother, Ash worked as a lumberjack. The walk to those woods was a thirty minute long journey I made everyday. My job is to deliver tesserae bread to the workers and bring the chopped wood to the other side of town for processing. I was instructed to walk back with Ash at eleven thirty. Soon, I knew it would be the reaping, my first one.

Our district, district 7, was one of the largest districts in Panem, and we live on the edge of the district. Therefore, the trip to the town square takes roughly around two hours on a rickety old truck. Every year, our family and a few others ride this truck meant for lumber to the reaping. The ride was always the worst part, everyone sat in silence, and you could almost hear their hearts pounding, praying that their family wouldn't get reaped.

**"Hey there, Sylvie!"** My brother Ash greets me, and then he goes to put his axe in the storage house. I am confused, and then I remember why he did that. Of course, the peacekeepers wouldn't let anyone carry their axes home. I spot Cassius, my least favorite peacekeeper, who whips people for the tiniest reasons. I remember him whipping Ash once, when I was younger. Ash had to stay home for a week. His evil glare reaches my face and I look away. I have no idea why he hates me. _Maybe it's just because I'm Ash's sister,_ I think.

Ash's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. **"Help me carry this, will you?"** he asks. I nod, and he hands me a few pieces of cedar wood. He picks up more for himself and we walk back to our house.

The journey back was fairly uneventful. My mother shows me a dress my cousin, Kismet once wore. It is teal in color, with a laced collar. I put it on and turn to look at myself in the mirror. The dress fits me perfectly, so I know mother must have fixed it. When Kismet was twelve, she was much bigger than me. Mother brushes my hair, ridding it of tangles.

Soon, we leave. When we get to the truck, Kismet and her family are already there. I'm so nervous I walked straight into Kismet. I know she sees the fear in my eyes, because she says **"Don't worry, your name's only in there once, you won't get reaped. Probably." **I know my odds of being reaped aren't nearly as high as some of the other kids in my district, since I haven't taken any tesserae. I'm sure if I get reaped, I'll never make it back home. So, I get off the truck and tear a bundle of pine needles of the nearest tree I could find._ Just in case,_ I think, when I tuck it into my pocket.

The ride isn't as long as I thought it would be, and we were there in no time at all. Ash brings me to the group of scared, wide-eyed, twelve year old girls. They are talking about the reaping, most of them. I can hear them saying things like "Do you think I'll be reaped? I really hope my sister isn't reaped! She's in there 24 times!"

I can see the escort in her spiky, bleached white hair, and frilly neon pink dress, walk up to the stage. Our mayor, a 50 year old man reads stuff from a scroll, like every other year. I get bored, and I let my mind wonder. Just like what Kismet said, I probably won't get reaped. Ash's odds aren't too high either, because none of us have to take tesserae. Even though we're not rich, we can feed ourselves without the extra tesserae.

I don't notice my name is called out until the girl next to me gently nudges me with her elbow. **"Sylvianna Elwood,"** Our escort, Concetta, repeats, with her voice high and clear, not to mention being filled with her Capitol accent.

I gasp, and so does Ash, Kismet, and my parents. I slowly make my way up to the stage, knowing there would be no escape from the Capitol's games. I see the terror in Ash and Kismet's eyes, and I realize that given the chance, they would volunteer for me. But since Ash is a boy and Kismet just turned nightteen weeks ago, they can't. I wouldn't like them to anyways. Either way, someone's going to have to die.

Concetta's hand reaches into the boy's bowl and she snatches a slip of paper, carefully opens it, and reads out another name while I stand there and try not to shake with terror.

**"Lynx Channing." **She reads. I know this name. Lynx is one of Ash's friends. I hear the older girls at my school talk about him sometimes.

Lynx bravely makes his way to the stage. He has successfully masked his emotions. He knows me too. I know that he is sixteen, and that he has a younger sister around my age and he is an orphan. I am sure my family will care for his sister if he does not return. A little girl, not in the roped areas, bursts into tears. She must be his sister.

I don't notice the Treaty of Treason until the mayor has finished it. **"Shake hands, you two." **He says.

I reach my small, quivering hands to his strong, toned ones. He gives me a small nod, unnoticeble by the rest of the district, as if he's promising everything will be alright.

But I know that it won't. It'll never be.

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**By the way, the story will be from the PoVs of five characters. Reviews will be much appreciated. No flames, please.**

**-Feather**


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